


Too Bright

by upallnightstrungtight



Series: staring at the sun [1]
Category: Super Junior, Super Junior-M
Genre: Asexual, Asexual Character, M/M, happy new year
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-03-03 09:13:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2845724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/upallnightstrungtight/pseuds/upallnightstrungtight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Henry wished he had any problem other than this one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Too Bright

Henry wished he had any problem other than this one.

Well, okay, two problems. Problem one was his ridiculous fucking crush on Ryeowook. He thought that time and some space, even, would take care of that, but it had to get _worse_ , how the hell does that even happen? He’d tried everything he could think of to just deal with it – closer, farther, more, less… Fuck, he’d at least hoped for someone else to catch his attention, but no luck. All his looking and flirting and _trying_ didn’t magically turn up someone who made his chest go tight like Ryeowook did. That beautiful boy was a magnet and Henry was made of iron, not steel. He was giving up on solving problem one.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

Problem two was how to scope out the situation on possible reciprocity. He was well aware that guys actually _being together_ wasn’t so much the done thing around here, but whatever, if Henry cared about easy, he would’ve never left Canada. Miserable, probably, compared to this, but it’d be easy. Right, back to the second problem, which is long past the point of the gender issue. No, the dilemma here was that there didn’t seem to be much in between innocent affection and very obviously not-platonic kissing. Being extra touchy-feely, going out to dinner together, even saying _those three words_ just isn’t all that unusual and it all gets filed under platonic. He actually tried that, fairly early on, with disastrous results. Exaggeration? Sure, he wasn’t shot down horribly, but that could’ve at least clarified where he stood. No, instead, Ryeowook gave him, swear to god, the _exact same look_ he’d once given a kitten chewing on his sleeve, then ruffled his hair and called him sweet. He got embarrassed all over again just thinking about it. On the bright side, he could say it now, when he feels brave enough.

Anyway, proving his point was as simple and aggravating as that. He could feel his hands making abortive movements to tear out his hair in frustration. _The **one fucking time** I wanted to be taken seriously…_ At this point, he’d been watching for years, observing, testing the boundaries where he couldn’t get good data, but he hadn’t been able to discern much about Ryeowook’s feelings beyond being positive towards him. That was great, but not really useful here.

Tshk tshk scrtch.

Who the hell was he supposed to talk to about this, anyway? He could count the number of people he knew who had a chance at understanding what he was dealing with on one hand, if you combined them into one very strange overperson. Superperson? Interperson? That was piled on top of being busy all the time. He gets so little sleep some nights, he can’t spare anything for his twitching fingers and the deep bass thump of his heart beyond the few seconds they steal before he collapses. Slowing down just wasn’t an option when he had to and _wanted_ to do everything, not for a crush, no matter how unrelenting and overwhelming.

Still, he felt like he was being carried out to sea.

 ********

Henry had _missed_ Ryeowook. He’d missed the teasing, the messing around, and, hell, he’d missed being taken care of. _Might as well admit it_. It’s not about _never_ seeing each other or talking, but rather, it’s the kind of missing that only eases up after a few days in each other’s pockets. He didn’t realize how much he’d ached until the feeling was finally leaving. The excitement never did manage to overwrite that the way he'd hoped it would; the two coexisted, back and forth in intensity and tension.

Sitting in this interview, with that itch just starting to be scratched, he might’ve not been paying as much attention as he should be. He felt that lightening, the other usual tension of performance, the press of his tie, his underlying awareness of the other M members, his background scan for an opportunity to jump in, and on top of all that, something had been jangling in his head all day. He was mostly thinking about what to do with it, trying not to squirm around while he figured out whether it was usable and probably managing to look like he was listening, long past needing all his focus to understand Korean. Being woken up five times last night didn’t help his concentration any either.

Then, all of a sudden, he had to shift gears to, _What did I say? When?_ He looked at Kangin, willing his telepathic powers to make him help, but they continued to be nonexistent. _Oh, **oh** , right, that one! That was a good one._ _Simple and specific._ It got the message across without pushing. He was still hoping for the cumulative effect to work out. Gotta have a plan B, after all, between all the pigtail pulling and mayhem. He was a bit more present after that.

It was a good thing he didn’t see Ryeowook’s bright smile in response until later, since it nearly knocked him flat secondhand. A little bit of that brightness visited again when he got to talk about food, and whenever he got to talk, _period_. Henry adored that little attention glutton to bits. _I’m doomed. So doomed._

********

He’s sitting on an uncomfortable bed, but he’s already lost track of that. He loses track of a lot of things lately. A lot of time seems to blur away, cuttings from a movie gone into the digital ether. He thought there was a blank notebook when he first sat down and spaced out, but when he looks down, there’s a page full of hangul with every cheesy smile comparison in existence and a doodle of… was that supposed to be a giraffe? _Ugh. What the fuck am I doing? Am I twelve?_ He drew a big stupid smile on it. Now it was a _happy_ long-necked monstrosity with apples for feet. He sketched in some sparkles around it. Just as he was thinking that he’d been here too long, Ryeowook finds him. “Henry, you okay? You look sick. Did Kyuhyun make you eat that spicy squid?”

“No, I’m just tired. Lots of schedules.” Henry keenly felt the warmth of Ryeowook’s arm around his shoulders, the press of his fingers familiar and comforting. _When in Rome_. He put his hand over Ryeowook’s, then interlaced their fingers, turning to smile at him. He wanted to sigh because even a quarter of that would’ve gotten at least a hint across back home, giving him the chance to laugh it off if it went south. Here, it doesn’t even register. He let go even though he didn’t want to.

Ryeowook peeked over his shoulder at the notebook. “Is that a giraffe? Everyone thinks I like those so much. If I liked them, I still wouldn’t need a hundred stuffed giraffes,” he huffed. “But I should be more grateful. It means they’re thinking about me and want me to be happy.” Brightening, he said, “Just in case, check my English pronunciation?” While the sounds weren’t too difficult, his scrunched-up face of concentration was definitely too adorable.

“That was great,” Henry says, patting Ryeowook’s arm a few times. Then he pulls back and takes a deep breath. “Ryeowook, you...” He wants so badly to just get the words out, have this over with. Fists clenched at his sides, he decides to commit himself, his shot across the bow. Heart pounding, he looks at Ryeowook carefully, cautiously. His smile is exactly the same as always, big and bright with a hint of softness, and Henry chickens out. _It’s too big of a risk. I can’t, I can’t!_  “What do you think about the flute? You sing really well, so you’re already good at controlling your breath.” Ryeowook’s brow furrows, his smile wobbling. “It’s fine, I know you’re busy, it was just a weird thought.” Henry was babbling. Ryeowook looks less confused, but something's still off. Rather than try to figure it out, Henry tickles him.

He loves Ryeowook’s laugh.  It's uninhibited, always sounding as if he's delightedly shocked that good things exist in the world each and every time. After a few seconds, Henry ceases the offensive and collapses on him instead. “I’m tiiiiiiiiiired.”

“You’re heavy, you brat.”

Henry lets out a put-upon sigh and rolls off, sprawling out like a starfish. His erstwhile pillow wriggles out from under him, eliciting a little whine. “Come on, I’ll make you some noodles,” Ryeowook says as he walks to the door. His back is turned but his grin is clear as he adds, “Even though I like yours better.”

Henry reminds himself for the millionth time that that's not a flirty voice.

********

The next time he stops not thinking about it, they're in the kitchen. It's late and Donghae’s laughter echoes out from the living room. His legs ache. He has his head pillowed on his arms, staring at the back of Ryeowook at the counter. Henry thinks about walking up behind him, resting his hands on Ryeowook’s waist and whispering blushworthy sweetness into his ear. It would be _so_ smooth. He doesn’t do it, the clench of fear in his gut winning again, and he sits up to the background music of thumps and clanks.

Henry watches Ryeowook fidget, hum, talk to inanimate objects, sing little mumbled snippets, keep an eye on some drama and never need to stop anything else all throughout. He keeps not doing anything. He’d thought he was brave, leaving everything behind to chase his dreams, holding on through the awful chanting, compressed language learning and incredible micromanaging. Instead, he realizes that he’s only found new ways to be a coward. _Learning about myself **sucks**_. Shoulders slumped, his hands gripped his thighs, bunching the denim between his fingers. He still doesn’t do it in any of the approximately seven thousand seconds he had after that, either.

********

He's on in fifteen, but he finds himself stuck thinking again instead of doing anything useful, staring at some lime green eyesore but not really seeing it. His hands twist the cap of his water bottle on and off, over and over again. There’s nothing too solid to base this on, but he has this feeling that Ryeowook’s had to smile, laugh, and maybe even cheer through a lot of shitty things. He relates to that more than he’d like. He’s been taught not to rock the boat, but he’s a bit too much like the cliché shark, he has to keep moving, and sometimes, that means the waters don’t stay calm. _Damnit, now I want seafood. Maybe I can get some shrimp later…_

Anyway, he would be missing some essential part of himself if he didn’t push at every boundary. But he's realistic, knows that pushing all of them all at once is a fool's errand. There are times when he finds himself turning towards Ryeowook and then suddenly stiffening, becoming aware of the relentless scrutiny all over again. A while ago, he happened upon a video of some event that dissected everyone into the tiniest pieces, down to hand position and movements while walking. _That’s sure to reveal astounding secrets like “I’m a vertebrate and prefer to be comfortable” and “I’d like to not fall on my face”. Universe’s mysteries: **solved.**_ It made his gut wind itself into knots. Forgetting wasn’t really allowed, but he managed, once in a while; knowing got easier, but it was never _easy_ . He already had too many things he couldn’t forget. He wished more of them were good. He felt cold in the middle of summer sometimes. He was three different people yesterday, and today isn't looking any better. He just wants to turn _off_.

The water bottle's empty when he refocuses his eyes. Enough of that. Back to laughter and lightness. _That’s what everyone wants. That’s what they like. Keep running._

********

Somewhere between Osaka and Fukuoka, the members get together to drink. He’s a little morose today, but trying not to show it. It’s late and cold and stuffy all at once. Kyuhyun looks unaffected by his empty bottles, save for his slight swaying before righting himself, like one of those inflated clowns that always puts itself back to upright after it’s punched. “I think I’m kinda drunk,” Henry mutters to the table.

He’s drifting in and out, stuck in time-lapse shots – Heechul, louder than ever, full of conviction, shoving at Donghae and Eunhyuk and Siwon in round robin fashion, then finally cackling when he’s got them all at once, nearly knocking each other over; Leeteuk looking more relaxed than he has in days, content to laze around; Kangin trying his hardest to do an impression that, no doubt, would’ve been lost on everyone even without the slurred voice, while Sungmin smiles beatifically and and calls him an idiot; Ryeowook walking around, mostly upright, four too many drinks in him, insulting everyone to their faces and getting laughed at for his efforts; Sungmin tilting his way towards Kyuhyun, the first of many flags to drop. Ryeowook finally comes over to take a shot at Henry. _He’s gonna be a tomato tomorrow morning._

“You,” Ryeowook starts, pointing unsteadily. “You’re… too cute. Are you even human? How do you do that?” He pokes Henry’s cheek, one, two, three, bringing the rest of his hand into the matter and sliding it up into his hair. Ryeowook must be past the insults portion of the night, because he starts scritching lightly, clumsy and still unbearably sweet.

Somewhere between Osaka and Fukuoka, Henry decides that the only thing he hates more than being a coward is staying a coward.

********

It’s late. Henry’s gone so far as to commit the heresy of putting his phone on silent. He takes a deep breath, sounding more like a sigh, and says, “I don’t wanna go back to my room. Can I just stay here?” He pouts for added effect.

“Sure,” Ryeowook says with what Henry’s learned is his indulgent grin. That one’s his favorite. Okay, one of his favorites. Ryeowook heads into the bathroom while Henry strips off his shirt and jeans, dropping them into a pile before jumping onto the bed. _So far, so good._ Click, Ryeowook’s back out, his face damp. His steady gaze and the defiant jut of his chin belies the pink tint to his cheeks. Henry grins.

“I thought I lost that shirt! Do you like it that much?” Ryeowook ignores him, just like the last four times. Henry doesn’t even feel upset about the occasional shirt that Ryeowook steals. Who would, seeing him wearing one to bed, his sharp collarbone sliding in and out of view as he shifts around? Surely, it's not  _possible_ to be unhappy with that. Henry wants nothing more than to curl up with him under thick blankets, drinking hot chocolate as they watch the nighttime rain. He wants to keep him forever. He refuses to start a new year without at least trying.

Ryeowook’s already under the blanket when Henry switches off the lamp. He gathers his resolve from the dark as he stays kneeling on top of the covers. “Can I tell you a secret?” He asks quietly.

“Of course,” Ryeowook answers, just as quietly. “Secrets are not for sharing,” he says so fiercely that Henry’s heart hurts. _I really hope this isn’t a mistake._ He considers asking him to not get mad, but realizes how ridiculous of a promise that actually is. _Has that **ever** worked?_ He shakes his head, unwilling to be distracted.

“I’m not a kid, you know that, right?” Henry waits through the pause. One, two.

“No,” Ryeowook replies, his voice husky and words stretched out, “you’re not.” Henry looks back at the window for a moment, quadruple-checking that the curtains are closed despite the near-complete darkness. He takes a deep breath.

“I like you as more than a friend” finally tumbled out in English. He's about to try again, maybe even be comprehensible this time, but he doesn't get the chance. He hears a sharp gasp; it feels very loud, louder every moment in the silence after it. He was starting to wish he had his clothes on. Turning towards where the pile should be, he's stopped by a hand fumbling on his arm, finally grabbing his wrist. The grip is painfully tight for a moment. He’s full of adrenaline, he doesn’t know whether to run or whether he’ll have to find a way to make this okay but it hasn’t let go of him, the feeling or Ryeowook’s hand. When it loosens, Ryeowook’s thumb strokes the inside of his wrist the same way he’s done a mil- _Fuck_. “Fuck,” he says out loud for good measure, before finally managing to switch back to Korean, “I’m an idiot.”

“You’re _my_ idiot,” Ryeowook says warmly. “I’ve been courting you for years. Do you think I’d let anyone else get away with half of what you do?” He sighs. “But, I was scared too. I’m still scared.” Henry traces his free hand up Ryeowook’s arm, unwilling to break his hold, then across his shoulder and up his neck, finally finding his face. His knuckles stroke a soft curve across cheek and jawline.

“It’s okay to be scared. It’s not weak.” As Henry keeps touching, he considers turning the light back on, but ultimately decides against it. Just for now. Ryeowook's hands move to his shoulders, then his cheeks. Henry can only see the shine of his eyes as he pulls himself forward, slowly, so slowly. They finally meet in the softest of kisses. Henry suspects it’s entirely possible that he’s never been this happy before. He lets out a pleased hum as Ryeowook pulls back. “I like that. I like _you_.”

“Good thing I like you too.” Ryeowook pecks him again. And again. And a third time. Finally, he sits back, and Henry feels Ryeowook’s hands curling around his. “But, you know this isn’t easy, right? We’re still going to be apart a lot. That’s not going to change.” Squeeze.

“I know.” Squeeze.

“Also, you can’t talk about this. It’s _dangerous_.” Hard squeeze as the shine moves, nearly disappearing.

“I know that, too. Maybe someday.” Henry moves closer, pulling Ryeowook towards him. Holding him as long as he pleased. _He’s still trying to protect me._ His heart was making an escape attempt from his chest and he feels homesickness jolting him, leaving as quickly as it came.  The reality of what that would entail flashes through his mind, almost making him wish that he hadn’t thought about it. He rubs his hand up and down Ryeowook’s back, kissing his forehead. The twinge of pain in his sides from the tight embrace drew no complaints.

“You’re all mine now,” Ryeowook said, partially muffled by his shoulder. “I’ll take good care of you. You’ll see.” Henry couldn’t help but laugh.

“You’ve never done _anything else_. Any more and you’ll never get to see me because I won’t be allowed to leave the gym!” Ryeowook grins and squeezes Henry’s upper arm. His fingers start drumming haphazardly up and down, over the elbow and to the wrist, then back to the elbow. His fingertips feel cold as he curls them around the point.

“I’m so happy, but… I can’t stop thinking about the bad things. What do we do if we get caught?” Ryeowook clearly has no problem waiting a minute for his answer, since he starts kissing Henry again, pressing more firmly than before. This time, when he pulls away, his breathing sounds faster. Henry puts a hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeat. Even sped up, it’s soothing, just feeling it going and that he’s here.

“Obviously, I take you back home with me and we get married and adopt a hundred kids.” Even if Henry can’t see it too well, he wants to make Ryeowook smile again. That wish is granted, surely the second or third tonight, as Ryeowook tips forward and his bark of laughter nearly goes right into Henry’s ear.

“A hundred is too many, Henry! How much money do you think I have?!” Ryeowook slaps his arm lightly, playfully. Henry pulls him back in, pleased with himself.

“Okay, okay, just three or four,” Henry murmurs. Ryeowook sighs contentedly, the tension noticeably leaving him. _Don’t think about tomorrow and I won’t either._

“That’s better. Come on, let’s get some sleep,” Ryeowook slurs out between yawns. “You’re already here, so tonight, I’m not letting you go.”

“Then don’t,” Henry whispers. “Don’t ever let me go.” Ryeowook slides down and places Henry’s arm firmly over himself, one leg flung over his. _This is gonna be a great year_ , Henry thinks as he adjusts the blanket.

Just for a moment, he held back the tide.


End file.
